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There's nothing wrong with the twenty-first century that wasn't wrong with the twentieth too
Rabbit, rabbit! Happy New Year! Let's start it off right, with anti-fascism.
My poem "The Watchword" is now online at Uncanny Magazine. It is a ghost poem for Hirsh Glik. I wrote it in July, long before I had any idea I would get to close out the year singing his partisan anthem in memory and summoning of resistance, and I can't even claim it was foreshadowing: I am far from the only person with these ghosts on their mind these days. I would have been glad to sing "Zog nit keyn mol" with A Besere Velt and glad to see this poem in print no matter what. But because of the singing, I think, it means even more than it did when I wrote it. The title comes from a line in the third verse:
ס׳וועט די מאָרגנזון באַגילדן אונדז דעם הײַנט
,און דער נעכטן וועט פֿאַרשווינדן מיט דעם פֿײַנט
—נאָר אויב פֿאַרזאַמען וועט די זון אין דעם קאַיאָר
.ווי אַ פּאַראָל זאָל גיין דאָס ליד פֿון דור צו דור
S'vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt
un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mitn faynt,
nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem kayor—
vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor.
The morning sun will gild our today
and yesterday will vanish with its hatred
but if the sun comes slow to dawn—
like a watchword this song must pass from generation to generation.
And it did. It's still sung. It's sung as part of a tradition, and it is sung specifically to remind ourselves and the world that we are here, that we did not walk the last road in 1943 and we are not walking it now—and that we will not let others walk it if we can help it. It's a talisman, a credo, a lookout. It got handed to me and I pass it on.
.מיר זײַנען דאָ
My poem "The Watchword" is now online at Uncanny Magazine. It is a ghost poem for Hirsh Glik. I wrote it in July, long before I had any idea I would get to close out the year singing his partisan anthem in memory and summoning of resistance, and I can't even claim it was foreshadowing: I am far from the only person with these ghosts on their mind these days. I would have been glad to sing "Zog nit keyn mol" with A Besere Velt and glad to see this poem in print no matter what. But because of the singing, I think, it means even more than it did when I wrote it. The title comes from a line in the third verse:
ס׳וועט די מאָרגנזון באַגילדן אונדז דעם הײַנט
,און דער נעכטן וועט פֿאַרשווינדן מיט דעם פֿײַנט
—נאָר אויב פֿאַרזאַמען וועט די זון אין דעם קאַיאָר
.ווי אַ פּאַראָל זאָל גיין דאָס ליד פֿון דור צו דור
S'vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt
un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mitn faynt,
nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem kayor—
vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor.
The morning sun will gild our today
and yesterday will vanish with its hatred
but if the sun comes slow to dawn—
like a watchword this song must pass from generation to generation.
And it did. It's still sung. It's sung as part of a tradition, and it is sung specifically to remind ourselves and the world that we are here, that we did not walk the last road in 1943 and we are not walking it now—and that we will not let others walk it if we can help it. It's a talisman, a credo, a lookout. It got handed to me and I pass it on.
.מיר זײַנען דאָ
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There are those who'd like that for people like me too.
But I'm still here. We're still here.
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May it only continue!
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I am glad you are.
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As a first publication of the year, it delights me. I shall endeavor to keep it up.
May it only continue!
Likewise, you most-read lesbian historical author, you!
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Thank you! It is making me happy.
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Thank you. Please feel free to share if you wish! It's out in public.
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Thank you, and you are welcome.
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Thank you.